


The Wrong of Rights

by aftermorning



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Historical, Illegal Activities, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5734807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aftermorning/pseuds/aftermorning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s filth smudged on the face of the city. Thick, black, and giant clouds of smoke engulf the blue that was once in the sky. His nose tolerates the smell of sickness and his eyes are certain that the devastation before him will be long to change. His rugged boots crumble the mounds of dirt beneath them. Taking in the glances of fear glazed in the people’s eyes. How his family and his name have left a mark on the ravished face of this place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wrong of Rights

 

 

**Chapter One: Trust & Doubts**

 

There’s filth smudged on the face of the city. Thick, black, and giant clouds of smoke engulf the blue that was once in the sky. His nose tolerates the smell of sickness and his eyes are certain that the devastation before him will be long to change. His rugged boots crumble the mounds of dirt beneath them. Taking in the glances of fear glazed in the people’s eyes. How his family and his _name_ have left a mark on the ravished face of this place.

 

He finds himself lurking through the alleyways instead of taking the main streets. Inhaling small breaths while his fingers fish for the stale cigarettes in his coat pockets. Liam finds a pile of them rather quickly. Crumbled but good enough to light with a bare match. He waits until he reaches the old door of a small building.

 

The whiffs of cigarettes and alcohol stains the place. Men clammered around circle tables while drunkards spill confessions at the bar. Liam is used to the uneasy silence in the room. As he steps in most of the men quieting their conversations while others gulp down their drinks. He glances over the room cautiously before going over to the bar. The tension dissolves once he finds his usual place. Liam kicks over a stool as the room settles back into ease.

 

“Mr.Payne,” The man smiles. He slides over a clean shot  glass, choosing a glass of alcohol along the tall shelf. The dark rum slips over the edges while bartender fills his cup. “Boy came in wanting to fill in the job,” he says.

 

“Turned him away, he was too soft, lads have him up against the wall. Beating em’ bloody,”

 

“He's from Bradford, district in the south,” The bartender continues. He uses the damp rag across his shoulder to clean up the drops  along the counter.

 

“I reckoned he's gonna come back, looking for you. Strong headed one,” he adds at the end. A distant sigh Liam notices as he filled a customer's drink.  

 

“I guess I'll speak with him Lou, maybe he could make good use of himself,” Liam says as he finishes the dark liquid in his glass. Clearing his throat at the strong burn that settles on his stomach.

 

“A boy like that, he's only gonna find himself in-

 

A man stumbles through the door. Screaming and shouting. Raising hell as he tries to yank Liam's attention away.  “The cops,” He gasp. Sweat thickening on his brow.

 

“They're in the town,” He says over another gasp of breath. His eyes widening with a glance of fear. Liam holds on to his shoulder. While the bartender shouts for everyone to go

home. The room falls silent. Liam thumbing his shoulder while looking up to Louis to hand him a drink. “Let's calm you down first,” Liam says even though his own heart thumps faster.

 

The man swallows a swig from the shot glass. Slamming it down with the force of his fist. “Mr.Payne, They know what've you got, how we got the-

 

“We don't know have anything,” Liam finishes for him. His eyes cold and stern. “If they ask, we have nothing I'm just a book maker and you are soldier from war,”

 

The man nods quickly. “I want you to understand clearly,” Liam says in a slower tone.

 

His eyes hooded and anger begins to darken them. His dull nails grasp hard at the rough edges of his chin. “Do not tell anyone other than me,” Liam says.

 

_“No one,”_

 

“If you do, I'll put a bullet through you myself,” Liam mutters. Afterward he calls Louis back for my drinks.

 

“Go home now,” Liam mutters with the lowering of his head. The man scurries off with the same anxiousness as before. The room falls into another wave of silence. The only sound to be heard is the bartender getting another glass.

 

“I don't think you can hide it forever,” Louis says as his fingers trace over another bottle.

 

“We both know he's gonna crack,” the bartender mutters after. His blue eyes holding a certain honesty that forced Liam to look away.

 

“I need something stronger,” Liam ignores him, pointing to an unopened bottle on the shelf.

 

“Liam Payne, trouble tends to follow you around then? Is it not enough, you're going around making trouble for yourself,” Louis says while cracking open the bottle. They both lose the motivation for self reflection when Liam indulges into the dark liquid.

 

“It's gonna be the death of you Mr.Payne,” Louis whispers.

 

Liam merely shrugs. Allowing the room to settle back into calmness though tension wringing at his life leaves him in a numb state. His mind battling over indecision as the alcohol bubbles against his throat. He hopes maybe another gulp and a cigarette can drown out the words from his head but they never do.

 

~*~  

 

He's woken up by an awful noise. Someone knocking heavily upon the glass of the pub door. The only one he can think of is Louis coming to clean up during day hours. Liam fixes most of what he can for his disheveled appearance. Pulling the tie away from his neck and flattening the collar of his shirt. Falling asleep against the hard wood of the counter leaves him in a groggy state.

 

“Stop beating on the fucking glass,” Liam shouts as his eyes open. The noise stops almost immediately. Liam steps over to the door. Taking in the presence of a younger man. His eyes too wide and nose too straight. Wispy black strands of hair that cover his head. He looks awfully young to Liam. He looks like someone who doesn't belong in the slums of Wolverhampton.

 

He opens the door slowly. Watching the man step in with false confidence. “You're the boy who wanted the job?” Liam says. The unknown man looks up from  underneath the thick of lashes around his eyes. Liam takes a step back into the room. He runs his fingers messily through his hair. He had forgotten his cap somewhere.

 

He finally nods to the question. Liam glances him over before shrugging. Louis was right on what he said before. His face is soft and a little overwhelming to look at. Liam stumbles back at his place at the bar.

 

“You can't work here,”

 

“You haven't even gave me a fair chance,” He says in protest, cheeks flushed.

 

“You act like I have to give you one,” Liam laughs. He feels as if he had spoken to child. The man twisted his lips into a pout. An obvious distaste etching his features.

 

“It’s proper,” He says.

 

Liam turns around, he looks at the man with a small smirk on his face.

 

“Proper?” He mocks. “Are you fucking kidding?”

 

“You have better chances elsewhere, just look at yourself. No one's going to give a single shit about what you say. You're too sweet looking,”

 

Liam pulls out a cigarette. “It won't work, there’s no such thing as _proper_ here.” He snaps as he lights it. Liam assumed the man left after the pub is quiet again. Liam looks over his shoulder to find him still there. His teeth digging into his bottom lip. His hand in his pocket as his mouth twitches to say more. Liam waits, wondering what the younger will choose.

 

“I've worked at pubs before, I used to sing for the lads, we had a good time. No fighting or trouble,” The man says quietly. His eyes glimmering with defiance. Pushing Liam to mutter something beneath his breath. He can see that the man tremble but still he stands. “Please.” He adds softly. Looking up at Liam from where he stood.

 

Liam inhales another breath of smoke. Taking in his words for a second. “You're not allowed to work past twelve, and you'll do whatever Louis asks of you,”  Liam says.

 

“You'll get three quid at the end of every week,” Liam finishes.

 

“Do you understand?” He mutters as the man smiles at him. Liam can only see how right Louis was. A boy like him is only going to find himself in situations that are unforgiving. Liam tries not to feel guilty about making it easier for him to be tangled in trouble.

 

“Thank you,” He says instead.

 

Liam keeps his mouth pressed around the dying cigarette.

 

~*~

 

It’s the last place Liam wants to be. The house are built in brick upon the gray streets of the city. A foul smell passes through the wind of an open window. The bread in front of him is bitter and old. A stale press on his tongue as he chews while too many eyes watch him.

 

The man before him is older. They both share similar lives and features. His brother is older and his face is always graced with the state of regret. Liam wonders how they became so different.

 

“You know you're wrong,” His brother mutters. He takes a sip from his canteen. Breath tainted and spoiled by awful habits. Liam eyes the mouthful of alcohol he gulps down.

 

“Fuck off,” Liam groans back between the first few bites of his bread. The morning still not handing him over completely. His eyes droop in the need for a couple hours of rest.

 

“Lad is looking for trouble just like Lou said. There's nothing you can do about it since you put him there in the first place,” Daniel continues. His words are slurred but true. Intoxication bringing out the sincerity of his speech. Liam finds its the only time where he's truly honest. Liam tolerates most of the lecture since they've been through this before.

 

“You're a piece of shit, a selfish one.”

 

“He wanted to work,” Liam sighs. “Whether he goes home with a bloody nose isn't my fault.” He breaks the piece of bread in his hands. Turning his head to look out the window. Few people walk the streets at this hour.

 

“He's not from here, looks like a good lad trying to test the waters. Comes from a good family I think,”

 

“It's only assumptions. We know nothing about him,” Liam argues.

 

“I know that he's fucking play you. You let your pride get in the way,” Daniel laughs.

 

“It's an awful thing Liam,” Daniel adds.

 

“You act like you have something to prove all the time. That's why you stole those guns hm?” His brother says.  

 

“I wish you wouldn't patronize me,” Liam snaps before slamming his fist on the table.

 

“I wish for once you would be normal, that I could have a brother that doesn't have a bad name.” Daniel whispers back. His eyes still looking at Liam closely. He pushes his plate away as he moves from the table.

 

“But we don't all get what we want, it's how life works,”

 

Liam tries to ignore the echo of the front door slamming back into place.

 

“You shouldn't argue like that,” His mother says. He sees her wipe the smudge a makeup from her cheek. Liam keeps his mouth shut about tears that dried against her frail cheek.

 

“I've barely set the table and he's already gone,” She looks down while wiping her wrinkled hands on her apron. Liam slouches back, fingers feeling brittle as his thumb presses into the wood of the table.

 

“Barely can keep you two in the same room,” She smiles with a sad laugh to follow after and Liam forces his lips to curve to smile back.

 

~*~

 

“Are you going to sell them?”

 

Louis looks at him with stern eyes. Cold glances given back as Liam leaves the question unanswered. The man is fiddling through contracts and receipts while money lays scattered over the old round table. “Who’s watching the bar?” Liam questions, looking back in the main room. The bar remains empty and Louis looks up with a scrunched brow.

 

“The kid was, or it atleast I thought he was-

 

“You’re not watching him?”

 

“Fuck Liam,” Louis scowls. “I have books to keep up with and orders to fill out, I don’t have time to play nanny,” He sighs before scribbling more words onto the paper. Liam takes a seat in the chair beside him. Hands toying into his pockets until he finds a lighter and cigarette. Louis doesn’t force his frustration on him, but yet the tension around them strains. Every other day Liam can’t tell who’s close enough to breaking.

 

“You're numbers,” A softer voice behind him. “They're wrong,”

 

Zayn peering attentively over Louis shoulder after he takes a couple steps over. Liam begins to wonder how long the man had been standing in the door.

 

“You're supposed to be tending to the bar, get your nose out me books,” Louis scowls sending the fellow off. Zayn looking frightened as Louis threatened him with a rough clenched fist.

 

“He's good with number, could be good for us Tomilson. Don't scare him off,” Liam says.

 

“Mousing around like that, he's gonna get  his nose cracked. It's already a tough business I don't need a rat.”

 

Liam laughs, clasping the man on the back. Admiring him with a fondness that Liam couldn't grasp for himself. The bitterness edged to his words held some truth, Liam could take it as humor. For it was really the only way to ease his conscious.

 

Liam takes slow steps out the back room. To find the younger man cleaning the countertop. Head down and his voice hinting at little short hums of a song. Stuck in his own world of thoughts, unaware of Liam's presence.

 

“So you’re good at numbers?” Liam’s brow drawn down, not sure really how to introduce himself. He sees how Zayn’s hand curl around the rag as if he had been startled. After he seems to regain some composure, turning to the direction of Liam’s voice.

 

“I know a little, just enough to know you’re losing money because your books are wrong.” He speaks with determination but only smudges of it covering his voice. Eyes still wide and confused. Liam nods in agreement, considering the idea.

 

“I feel like you know alot more than you let on,”

 

“I don’t,” Zayn is quick to answer.

 

Liam slowly takes another step. Leaving little space between them. He tries to find some answer in the brown eyes glancing back at him. After a couple of seconds of scrutiny Liam still remains undetermined. “My brother says you come from a good family, is that true?” Liam asked while watching him doubtfully.

 

“My mother died when I was three, my father worked in the mines. It was just me and my sisters and they depended on me.” Zayn answers lowering his gaze to the floor.

 

“I don’t feel sorry for you, I just wonder how a boy from Bradford managed to get here. I mean there’s London or even the Americas but yet you choose _here_.”

 

Liam smirks with a small laugh to accompany. Something deep and dark that doesn’t match their conversation at all. He’s aware of his own surroundings and he still figures there’s other reasons Zayn came here. He tries to let it go for the moment.

 

“Are you a christian?” He mutters.

 

Zayn nods, eagerly so and Liam points his hand to the door.

 

“I’d like to take you somewhere if that’s alright,”

 

Zayn is hesitant to answer, his voice soft. Another quick nod of his head and Liam leads him out the door into the streets. Still not sure but certain the lad has secrets. That thought alone nudges over Liam’s conscious.

 

**End of Chapter One**


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